Her Reason
by AllieCam
Summary: This is my take on No Reason. Please read it before being bored with my lack of originality! Ch 4 is up. It's the last one.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: everything, sadly, belongs to Fox and to David Shore...and everyone but me!

This is a new fic that has probably been done a 1000 times, but I couldn't get it out of my head so, I decided to post it.

It's my take on No Reason. So, yes, it is wildly off canon...but hopefully not OC.

Anyway, please let me know what you think!

* * *

She woke up that morning with a gnawing feeling in her stomach. Not fear; it was more like trepidation- the type of feeling that made you want to hide your head under the covers, wrap your arms around your favourite teddy-bear and never come out.

The last time she'd felt like this had been the morning her husband died. There'd been no indication that he had been going to die that day- except that knot in her stomach. It had been a sort of vague awareness of approaching evil and the certain knowledge that she was unable to do anything to prevent it's arrival.

But she was no longer the type of woman who hid under the covers. So, she pushed herself up out of bed and began to get ready for work.

* * *

She met Dr. Wilson in the lobby of Princeton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital.

She greeted him somewhat absentmindedly.

"Are you ok?" he asked her, sounding concerned.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" she replied with a smile.

"You just seem a bit…I dunno," he struggled to find a word to describe her mood.

But Cameron wasn't listening, she was looking over the oncologist's shoulder at a man hovering by the elevators. There was something about him that caught her eye. He was of medium height and build, dressed in a pale suit and T-shirt with very short hair. He looked perfectly ordinary. And yet…

"Cameron," James Wilson called her back to reality, "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm sorry," she apologised, "I was miles away…" she spoke suddenly urgently, "Did you see that guy?"

"What guy?" The oncologist looked confused.

"The guy that was over by the elevators," she looked around for him, but he was nowhere in sight, "He was here just a second ago."

"Cameron, I don't see anyone," he was looking at her like she was crazy.

"Sorry," she apologised, "But he _was_ here."

He nodded, but he clearly didn't have a clue what she was talking about. He excused himself and left to treat a patient, throwing the immunologist a very confused look as he walked off.

* * *

"Nice of you to join us, Cameron," House greeted her as she entered the conference room.

"Hmmm?" She responded distractedly.

"You're late," her boss went on, "I've a stack of mail to be answered, and the coffee hasn't been made." He gestured to the empty pot.

"Get Chase to do it," she answered irritably as she walked over to her desk to dump her stuff.

He looked surprised at her tone: "I would- but Chase's coffee tastes like mud."

The Aussie made a faint gesture of protest.

"Which one of you is doctor House?"

Cameron turned at the voice.

It was the man she had seen downstairs.

"The skinny brunette," her boss answered.

Foreman and Chase rolled their eyes at House's obvious attempt to force his youngest fellow to deal with the man for him.

"No, that's Dr. Cameron," the stranger spoke calmly and confidently.

"I never said I wasn't talking about me," House replied in amusement, "How do you know her-"

Before House could finish his sentence, them man had reached into his pocket and pulled a gun, and Cameron had stepped in front of her boss, facing the weapon….

* * *

AN: Unbelieveable? Yes. But good? I dunno. Please let me know! I'm begging you!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not mine, but being poor I have only my dreams…of owning House one day, and FINALLY getting House and Cameron together!

Thanks so much for your amazing reviews! I didn't realise that so many people would like my fic- which I must admit isn't all that original...sorry!

I hope to update as soon as possible...and I plan to introduce a character from Season Three a little ahead of time. Try and see if you can guess who it is...

Enjoy!

I hope this has all the action that the last one was missing!

* * *

Cameron stood in front of the man, effectively blocking his shot.

The gun was level with her head.

Here whole body was tense, but she faced him bravely.

"Get out of the way," he told her.

"No," her voice was calm, but her heart was pounding inside her ribcage like a jack-hammer.

"Get out of the way," his voice was dangerous.

"Why would I do that?" There was an almost amused smile on her lips. She had to appear in control of the situation- she just hoped he couldn't see that she was shaking.

"Because, if you don't, I'll put a bullet in your head," there was an almost savage note in his voice.

"And if I do, you'll shoot him," she spoke calmly as if this conversation were the most natural thing in the world, "What kind of person would I be if I let that happen?"

House stirred. He wasn't near enough to grab her and he knew that one false move could get them all shot.

"Nobody move!" The intruder shouted, sensing rather than seeing House's movement, "That goes for you two over there as well. Just don't move- or I _will _shoot her."

Chase and Foreman stiffened and did as they were told.

House couldn't stop himself from asking: "What do you want?"

"I want you to suffer, you bastard!" came the angry reply, "I want there to be some consequences to your actions!"

"And you seriously think that killing me is going to-"

"Shut up, House," Cameron didn't turn around, but there was so much menace in her voice that he stopped talking immediately. She turned her attention once more to the intruder who was looking more panicky by the second; this wasn't the way it was supposed to happen, "What's your name?" She asked the question in an almost conversational tone.

"Right," he gave a short laugh that was almost like a bark, "Why don't I just give you my address and my driver's license while I'm at it?"

"Fine, no name," she didn't seem too put out, "I think I'll call you Roger. You look like a Roger to me."

"Now, Roger, why don't you tell me why you want to put a bullet in House?"

She was biding time- her boss and her colleagues realised it, but wondered what she was hoping to do with it.

"I didn't come here to talk," he began.

"Yes, yes, we know. You came here to shoot House," her tone was almost bored, "But you won't be getting that done, so why don't you pour out your tale of woe instead?"

Mocking him probably wasn't the best way to get out of this. Foreman and Chase exchanged glances.

"I don't want to talk," the man spoke through gritted teeth.

House was starting to feel slightly desperate himself. There was absolutely nothing he could do without putting Cameron and the rest of his team in danger.

"Well, what do you want?" Allison spoke in the same way that one would speak to a petulant child.

"I WANT YOU TO GET OUT OF THE WAY!" He practically screeched the words, furious that she didn't seem to be taking him seriously.

Foreman and Chase started and it took all of Cameron's will power not to jump. Her only response to his yelling was the quickening of her pulse tensing of her muscles.

"Shhh," she said soothingly, "You'll burst a blood vessel."

"Or have an aneurysm," House added helpfully, "And that would be a _real_ tragedy."

"Shut up, House," his duckling and the intruder spoke as one.

"Listen Roger, I'll cut you a deal," Cameron sounded almost friendly, "I'll let you leave here and I won't say a word to the cops- if you'll hand over your gun. Because- let's face it," she sent him a confiding smile, "which one of us hasn't felt like shooting House at least once?"

"Do you seriously expect me to just hand my gun over to you?" there was disbelief in the man's voice.

"That would be the smart thing to do," she replied calmly, "But- if you don't want to- we can do this the hard way."

"The hard way?" he spoke with something approaching contempt, "Unless you've got a gun hidden somewhere in that lab-coat, I think we're doing this _my_ way."

"Give me the gun." Cameron held her hand out.

He didn't budge.

"Get out of the way."

She smiled: "You know I can't do that."

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Cameron spoke without breaking the man's gaze.

"Foreman, go and get security."

Foreman was so surprised that he almost did as he was told.

"Move an inch, and I will blow her head off!" The intruder's fingers tightened around the gun.

"If he'd been going to shoot me, he would have already done it. Go and call security," she urged him.

Eric Foreman hesitated: if he did nothing there was a good chance that both Cameron and House would get shot; if he moved he might get Cameron shot anyway.

"Don't move!" But the man's hand was beginning to shake and Cameron could see that he was sweating.

It was now or never.

Allison took a deep breath and bellowed: "I SAID DO IT _RIGHT NOW_, FOREMAN!"

Her outburst had been unexpected. It caused everyone in the room to jump and then three things happened in quick succession: Foreman started towards the door; the intruder, startled by the movement that he detected out of the corner of his eye, turned towards the neurologist to see what he was doing; and Cameron seized her opportunity.

She launched herself towards the man and, grasping his arm, forced it upwards, out of harm's way. The gun went off, the bullet burying itself somewhere in the ceiling. All three doctors stepped forward to help, but it was over in a second. Cameron viciously jabbed the man's chest with her elbow, effectively winding him. With her other hand she forced the gun from his grasp; it fell to the floor with a thud. The intruder doubled over with pain and another neat blow from Cameron sent him falling backwards; he landed on his back on the carpet.

'Roger' struggled to get up, but he suddenly heard a click and looked up to see the immunologist standing over him with his gun in her hand- it was pointed squarely at his head.

"Give me a reason," she told him almost venomously.

He stopped moving and simply lay on the carpet staring up at that gun.

"Foreman," her eyes never wandered from the man on the floor, "maybe you could go get security up here," her tone became almost stern, "And next time I ask you to do something in a time of crisis- just do it. I'm not a complete idiot, you know."

Foreman slipped out of the room without a word. He doubted that he would have been able to string together a coherent sentence at that moment.

"Cameron-" her other colleague began.

"Not right now, Chase," she said as she cut across him, "Not right now," she then turned her attention to 'Robert', "And you- not one word."

She could feel House's eyes on her; watching, analysing. She was grateful that he said nothing.

It seemed to take the security guards an age to get there, and when they did she couldn't seem to let go of that gun.

"Cameron," House was beside her and his voice was very soft. Very gently, his left hand circled her wrist as his right pulled the weapon out of her own.

For a brief moment, their eyes locked but Cameron turned away first.

"Has anyone called the cops?" she asked almost calmly.

* * *

AN: How was that? I know, I know...I WAS totally unbelieveable- but I _did_ enjoy writing it. Please let me know if you enjoyed reading it!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All ever, they aren't mine.

Saucy-Duck: Thanks so much for your advice. I got myself backed into a corner and I didn't know how to get out. I'll use your idea. Thank you for your help! I hope you like this chapter.

violtebeetles29: Thanks for the reassurance. I'm glad that you're enjoying the fic!

SilvaK: thanks for the review- as always!

bandbfan24: Thanks so much for your review- I was worried that this fic might be a little boring since it's been done so many times before.

My thanks to everyone who updated- I'm sorry that I didn't have time to say a few words to you all. I hope you like this chapter...and the character I stole from Season 3! Please let me know what you think!

* * *

The cops were hot on the heels of the security guards.

As soon as they arrived things degenerated into a sort of ordered chaos.

The 'suspect' was taking off for questioning, the doctors were divided up and asked to give statements, and experts appeared from nowhere to photograph the 'crime scene'.

All of the fuss was probably down to some paranoid member of the board wanting to make sure that the little incident hadn't damaged the precious hospital, House thought to himself as he watched the cops milling around his office.

"Dr. House," the young police officer recalled his attention, "I asked you if you recognised the suspect?"

"Of course I didn't recognise him," House snapped back irritably, "Do you seriously expect me to remember every single person I deal with?"

The man blushed faintly and scribbled something in his notebook.

"And why do you keep calling him 'the suspect'? They guy came in here with a gun to try and shoot me. Four people saw him. There's not much doubt, is there?"

The young cop seemed at a loss for words, but a voice from the doorway saved him.

"In as much as you have your own terms in medicine, I'm sure that you'll appreciate that we have our own in law enforcement," was the smooth reply.

House looked the other man over. He was of medium height and build with light blonde hair. He popped some gum into his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully, apparently trying to get the measure of the diagnostician before him.

"I'll bet it takes at least six years in college to understand the difference between a suspect and a 'perp'," he cast an ironical gaze in the cop's direction.

"I'm Detective Tritter," the man said, walking forward into the room, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

House rolled his eyes: "Not particularly. It hasn't changed since the last time I was asked to tell the story. There were no naked chicks, no aliens- just some idiot with a gun. Why don't you ask the guy with the cooling problem over there?" he pointed with his cane to the still flustered young cop, "I'm pretty sure he was scribbling down everything I was saying- unless he was actually writing the novel that's going to be his ticket out of the hell that is police work. Who knows?"

Tritter didn't look at all phased by the diagnostician's rude outburst. On the contrary, he was eyeing him with something approaching cold dislike: "I'm sure you gave a very….er…colourful statement. Doubtless, you were at a loss to understand why _anybody_ could possibly feel the urge to shoot you."

"Ouch. That was _cold_," he faked a shocked expression, "I sense I'm just a few minutes away from experiencing some of that police brutality you guys are always getting hauled into court for," he gave a glance of mock-sympathy, "Hey, I'm on your side. Those pesky prisoners- they've gotta know their place, right?"

"House!"

Lisa Cuddy appeared in the doorway, effectively cutting off the verbal sparring between the two men.

"Dr. Cuddy," Detective Tritter turned to face the Dean of Medicine, "Dr. House and I were just having a little chat," he shot House a look, "It was…interesting. I think we're done here for now. We'll be back if we need anything else."

"Are you finished taking statements from my staff?" she questioned.

"Yes. They're all free to go. Dr. House was particularly helpful," he added maliciously.

"He's that alright," Cuddy's tone was dry.

Tritter turned to go: "By the way, Dr. Cameron left a short while ago."

House's ears pricked up at that: "You idiot!" the cop and the doctor turned towards him, "Did you seriously let her drive home in the condition she's in?"

Detective Tritter answered with scorn in his voice: "Of course not, her boyfriend came to pick her up."

"You _idiot_!" House said again.

"What?"

He didn't reply, but instead pushed passed them and limped off down the corridor.

"House what is it?" Lisa Cuddy called after him.

"Cameron doesn't have a boyfriend," he responded without turning around.

* * *

AN: How was that? I hope that the Tritter/House thing was ok. The next chapter will be House/Cam. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not mine.

My thanks to everyone who review. I hope that you guys like the end.

SilvaK: Hope you like this chapter and thanks for the review!

Limaccia: Don't worry, I won't be using Tritter again!

Saucy-Duck: Hope you like the end.

Sorry it took me so long to update- things have been a little crazy!

Enjoy!

* * *

Out in parking lot, House was looking for Cameron's car but it was nowhere to be found. 

He was suddenly furious.

What the hell was she thinking driving herself home? She might have been cool as a cucumber while facing that gun but he was willing to be that she was coming down from an adrenaline high right about now. If she didn't kill anyone on the way back to her place, it would be a miracle- and House didn't believe in miracles.

There was nothing for it but to check it out.

House stomped to his car, jerked open the door, plonked himself down on the seat and slammed the door behind him. Then he hit the accelerator and tore off out of the parking lot.

* * *

When the cops had finished with Cameron, she immediately decided to high-tail it back to her apartment. She didn't want to talk to anybody and she knew she wouldn't be able to bear the staff's curious gazes. So, to rid herself of the over-zealous police officer, she invented a boyfriend who was waiting for her out in the parking lot and made her escape. 

When she got back to her apartment she immediately decided to wash off the horrible morning. As she rinsed her hair, she realised that the enormity of what had just happened hadn't really struck her- she hoped it never would. The thought of House being killed was more than she could bear and she shuddered to think of what might have happened had she decided to roll over in bed and bury her head under the sheets that morning. Cameron didn't believe in God but she was sure thanking someone for making her get up, get dressed and drag herself to work.

She dressed herself quickly and then found herself wondering what to do for the rest of the day. What did you do to celebrate saving the life of the man that you love? She wondered idly if Hallmark made cards for such an occasion. If they didn't, they should.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at her door. It was an impatient knock and it didn't sound like it was being make with a fist.

She debated with herself for a moment as to whether or not she should open the door but as the knocking got louder she felt herself compelled to answer.

"House," she greeted him, trying to inject some surprise into her voice. She hadn't really expected it to be anyone else.

"What are you doing here?" Cameron asked more to find something to say rather than because she wanted to know.

"I came to check if you killed someone on your way home," her boss replied and there was a bite in her voice.

Her response was a faint smile. "I didn't know you cared," she told him with wry humour.

They stood staring at each other for a moment. She was trying to read his eyes and he was taking in her appearance. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans under a loose-fitting purple dress made of chiffony material. The dress was cut in a deep V and ended just above her knee. Bell sleeves hung over her hands giving the dress an almost gothic feel. Her feet were bare. She looked more laid back than he had ever seen her. And, with her damp hair curling around her face, possibly more beautiful too.

She couldn't really tell what he was thinking and realised that she was too tired to try.

Breaking the silence Cameron said: "How about a drink?"

She stepped inside and began to make her way towards the kitchen without checking to see if he was following her.

"No thanks, I'm not staying," he replied somewhat thrown by her unexpected show of hospitality.

"It doesn't matter, I'll get you one anyway," she told him over her shoulder.

"Cameron, _I don't want a drink_."

The exasperation in his voice made her turn and look at him.

"Ok, House. But _I _do," Allison said calmly before disappearing into the kitchen for a few moments.

House took the opportunity to glance around her apartment. From what he could see, the entire place was decorated in varying shades of yellow and cream. There were a few pictures on the walls that were too far away for him to see properly and there were bookcases pretty much everywhere. The whole place was very Cameron: sort of serene and optimistic but serious as well.

When she came back out her boss still hadn't moved from his position at her door.

"Are you still here? And have you decided if you're staying or going?" she asked him.

House felt his lips twitch in spite of himself. She had the ability to put him in his place which is exactly the reason that she had turned up at her apartment the last time to beg her to come back and work for him.

"Look, House," she was beginning to feel a little exasperated, "If you're here for something just come in and tell me what it is. If you just want to stand there to annoy me, then I suggest you get lost and leave me alone. I'm a little tired after today," she added as an after-thought.

He limped into the hall then and shut the door behind him.

Allison smiled faintly: "Better. Now what do you want?"

"I wanted to ask you what the hell you thought you were doing driving home after this morning?" his voice was low and angry and she looked at him in surprise.

"How else would I get home?"

"Apparently not with a ride from your fictional-boyfriend."

She laughed: "Yeah, I had to tell the cops that to get them off my back. The way they were looking at me- like I was some delicate flower about to faint or something- was hilarious."

House stared at her for a moment.

"You shouldn't have been driving after this morning," he told her firmly.

"Why?"

"Because you were coming down off an adrenaline high and you could have killed somebody- that's why."

Cameron laughed again and took a leisurely sip of her screwdriver: "No I wasn't- and there's now way I'd ever get behind the wheel of a car if I wasn't sure that I could drive."

Her boss was watching her closely. Apparently he had misjudged the amount of adrenaline that was coursing through her system- it wasn't gone yet.

"And what about this morning?"

"What about this morning?" she echoed not really sure what he was getting at.

"What the HELL were you thinking?" House suddenly yelled, his anger breaking through.

She was taken aback only for a second and then she set down her glass on the coffee table with a snap.

"I'm sorry, House, but for a second I thought you were about to yell at me for saving your life," her voice was silky smooth.

"You could have been _killed_!" he shouted at her.

"But I_ wasn't_," she told him, "I'm _fine_."

"It doesn't matter," he was angrily gesturing with his cane, "You _deliberately_ threw yourself in front of someone with a gun."

"But I _didn't _get shot," she emphasised, "He _would_ have killed you but he wasn't going to hurt me."

"You don't know that," he shot back.

"Yes, I do," she insisted, "He had no reason to hurt me."

"Cameron, you don't know that he wouldn't have," House told her, furious that she was missing his point, "You have no evidence to support your theory."

"House, I know people," she told him, "and if that man had been going to put a bullet in my head, he would have done it as soon as I got in his way."

She watched him speculatively.

"What is this really about, House? Why are you here? You're not here to check up on me- because you don't care about how I am; you're not here to thank me- because that's not your style. So, why did you come?"

He just gave her that look that he did so well: it conveyed something without really saying anything at all. The thought of how many times Cameron had hung around waiting for him to put into words whatever it was he was thinking made her blood boil.

"What's the matter, House? Is it that you can't stand the thought that your life was saved by a woman?"

He spoke then and his voice and expression were strange; quiet but as if there was some deep emotion just underneath the surface: "Is that what you think?"

"Does it matter?" she asked him wearily.

No, it wasn't what she thought- not really- but she _was _fishing for explanations. And she didn't want him here- not any more. The morning's events were too recent and the realisation that she could have lost him was beginning to hit her.

"It matters," he said quietly, waiting for her answer.

Allison sighed: "No, that's not what I think. I'm sorry, House," there was contrition in her voice; she really hadn't meant to hurt him.

They looked at each other for a long moment.

Suddenly Cameron felt her knees weaken and she sank onto the couch out of sheer exhaustion.

She looked up at her boss: "I'd like you to leave," she told him in the same quiet tone that he had used.

She needed him to go before she said something she'd later regret, before she told him the kind of effect his getting shot would have had on her. He didn't need to hear that she was in love with him and she certainly didn't want to tell him.

He stared down at her, his eyes suddenly tired.

"Cameron, I came to check on you because I was worried," he told her in an undertone, "Contrary to popular belief I do actually care about people- even if I don't always show it."

Allison made a sign that begged him to stop. It was better to think that he didn't care about her at all than to think that he cared about her as a work colleague. She felt as if she were seconds away from the 'it's not you, it's me' speech.

"Fine, I'll go."

House suddenly surprised her by dropping a hand on her shoulder and giving it a little squeeze: "I'm glad you're not dead," he told her.

The he turned and hightailed it to the exit.

* * *

What the hell had he been thinking? House wondered to himself as he pulled the door shut behind him. She was clearly quite capable of looking after herself. 

He pushed the button for the elevator with the butt of his cane angrily. He couldn't get out of there fast enough. He had come to make sure that she was ok and she had just thrown in back in his face. Was it really so hard to believe that he was worried about her? But she hadn't even considered that it was a possibility.

He entered the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor.

Seeing Cameron jump in front of him and face that gun had been one of the scariest moments of his life. He just kept thinking: 'what if she gets shot?'. The worst had been the helplessness: there had literally been nothing that he could do to protect her.

Maybe it was just as well that she had asked him to leave because he now realised that he had been perilously close to telling Cameron how he felt about her.

* * *

Cameron heard the door click as her boss pulled it shut behind him. 

She breathed a sigh of relief. He was gone. At last.

Having him near her was dangerous. She knew that she had been moments away from telling him that she was in love with him.

Being the only thing that stood between him and a man wielding a gun had been terrifying. She had acted only on instinct. A second too late and he would have been bleeding out all over the conference room floor. She gave silent thanks to the higher power that she didn't really believe in for allowing her to prevent that from happening.

House was gone, but something that he had said was bothering her. She just couldn't remember what it was….

Oh shit.

Allison was suddenly on her feet.

He'd told her.

He'd said the every thing that she'd been waiting two years to hear and she'd been so set on getting rid of him that she hadn't even noticed.

Before she even realised what she was doing, she was out the door and impatiently pressing the button for the elevator. It wasn't moving fast enough and she realised that if she waited she would never catch him before he left.

She didn't know why but she just knew that she had to catch him _now_; before he left; before he could retreat into his shell and deny everything.

In desperation, she took the stairs.

Her bare feet made hardly any sound as they landed on each step.

Hurry, hurry, hurry each footfall seemed to tell her.

She had to get to him.

_Please let her get to him on time_.

* * *

House was unlocking his car when he heard someone call his name. 

"House!"

He turned to see Cameron running towards him.

"What is it, Cameron?" he tried to say in his usual bored tone but his heart was thumping.

"I just wanted to check something," she said breathlessly as she reached him.

And, before he knew what was going on, her mouth was on his and her arms were around his neck, pulling him closer. He instinctively closed his eyes and opened his mouth to hers. His hands moved too: his left one dropping his cane so that he could slip his arm around her waist and his right one fisting in her hair. He clung to her like a drowning man and the only thought in his head was 'She's alive. She's _alive._' And right then, that was all that mattered.

When they finally came up for air Allison was smiling.

"I was right," she told him almost triumphantly, "You _do _like me."

"I suppose you're going to be insufferable from now on because you were right _one time_," he said with a groan.

She laughed: "I'll _try _not to be…but I might be a little demanding," she warned him as she leaned in for another kiss.

"I could live with that," he told her before covering her mouth with his own and then he drew back as a thought struck him:

"Why are you suddenly so short?" he asked in confusion.

Allison looked faintly sheepish: "I came out without my shoes," she explained.

House glanced at her feet then and started to laugh. She stared at him in amazement: she didn't think that she had ever heard him give a real laugh. It was nice; rich and warm. He should do it more often. She was about to say as much when, after apparently guessing her intention, he decided to shut her up with another kiss.

* * *

Much later, when they had finally made it back to Cameron's apartment, House said out of the blue: 

"You know, in some cultures when you save a life it belongs to you."

She wasn't exactly sure how to take that.

"And in America?" Allison asked cautiously.

"It gets you a date," he grinned.

"Anywhere in mind?" she inquired as she snuggled closer.

"It's up to you," he said generously.

She thought about it for a moment: "Anywhere but a fancy Italian restaurant," she told him seriously, the memory of their first date clouding her happiness for a moment.

He saw the look on her face.

"My sentiments exactly," he deadpanned.

Then Cameron started to laugh.

"What?" Greggory House asked her curiously.

"I can't believe that I almost stayed in bed this morning," she told him.

He thought about it for a moment the responded: "Yes, that would have been a pity for both of us…"

* * *

AN: Ok, maybe it did turn out a little too neat in the end but I just realised that in all my fics House and Cam keep yelling at each other. Where is the love? I hear you ask...well, at the end of this fic! guess:) Please review! 


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